That's what I'm into right now.
I have been going through a phase of wearing nothing but multiple long scarves, beat-up cotton shirts, baggy denim and loose skirts paired with some bad-ass shoes.
Call it gypsy take over. Call it laziness. Call it whatever you want.
But I am feeling a bit anti-fashion, anti-rules over the last few
days.
Maybe its because Ottawa Fashion Week is coming up and I am tired
of hearing the word FASHION thrown about in conversation in a way
that is vomit-inducing to me; a way that conjures up images of Sex and the City
characters and gay-boyfriend companions and giggling about vagina issues over
martinis. No thanks!
There is so much more to fashion than a half-assed runway show and
a bunch of people herded together in a room, standing around looking deadpan
and taking themselves too seriously. Fashion, in this form, sure has a way
of setting you up to be the worst version of
yourself: judgmental, materialistic, artificial and vain.
As I continue to type this, I can see how some of you may think I
am completely disillusioned and hypocritical, because this here
blog could be considered a bit of a fashion blog; that and I work in
the industry as a stylist.
I have always loved certain elements of fashion and there is no
denying that. I love dressing up and dressing down and using my mood, a
film,character from a film, a line from Architectural Digest or a $2
shirt from a yard sale to inspire me to create my daily personna and how people
initially react to me.
Clothing and asserting a sense of style has always
been instinctual for me.
As far back as I can remember I have always had an infinity for
clothing, material, texture, magazine editorials, images of pretty girls,
fantasy...all of it! I like to look at clothing and think of it as a puzzle:
what can I do to with these pieces to express myself and how I am feeling, all
while looking cohesive and interesting and feeling confident.
There is a part of me that wants to thrust my identity out into
the world, and another part that cherishes privacy. Fashion has always been a
way to subtly indulge in that playful exhibitionism.
Ottawa and fashion have a very interesting relationship. It seems
like they are always at ends with one another and year after year, groups of
people take it upon themselves to fend for the rights that this city be
considered a fashion mecca.
The problem with the majority of fashion-related events in Ottawa
is that there is never any depth to the event.It is a shallow swim in a pool
with a bunch of sharks in stilettos gliding past one another,
staring, scanning, and sizing you and the rest of the room up
with their cold black eyes.
There is never any dialog accompanying any of the fashion shows or
reasons other than to "be seen" and party that these shows ever seem
to exist. I am not saying that fashion should or even could inspire much talk that
would enlighten a population, but there are many elements of the practice that
we have not explored yet, at least in this city. Living in Ottawa, which has
such a vibrant artistic community and a population that always has an opinion
on what is going on within current affairs and community-related issues, it
would be refreshing (and about time) to start ruminating about why we love
fashion, why we hate it, and how is it contributing to our identity, our
community and our culture.
I will be at Ottawa Fashion Week covering all the action for Guerilla Magazine this weekend and I suppose I am looking forward to my brief
swim with the sharks, where both the danger and the excitement will
exist on my peripherals. And with my fingers crossed and my hopes high, I
will be on mission to uncover the soul of the show and chat with some of
Ottawa's stylish insiders to get their take on the state of fashion
in the city.